


Shivers Down Your Spine

by Mousecookie



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: (per usual), Alternate Universe - Bookstore, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Cisco is dangerously adorkable, Dubious Science, Harry is not sure he will survive, M/M, Originally Posted on Tumblr, very silly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-23
Updated: 2019-03-23
Packaged: 2019-11-28 16:35:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18210821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mousecookie/pseuds/Mousecookie
Summary: It’s only after Cisco has fully settled his weight in the forbidden (and absurdly comfortable) armchair that he realizes the other man probably intended him to sit on the opposite arm.  Yannow, so that Cisco’s face wouldn’t be level with his navel.  Like it is now.  But it’s too late to move.  If he gets up, he will blush even harder and it’s much too soon for the heat death of the universe.





	Shivers Down Your Spine

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AStarlitSunflower](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AStarlitSunflower/gifts).



> I saw a tumbler prompt "Met in a bookstore reaching for the same book" as an anon ask for @astarlitsunflower, and their response, "THIS IS SO SOFT IMAGINE THE HAND TOUCH OMG". Naturally my first thought was "Harrisco, obv" and here we are.

Harrison “Harry” Wells and Cisco Ramon both reach for  _Beam Me Up, Scotty! Speculations about Future Feasibility of Science in Sci-Fi_ at the same time.  The small used bookstore is crammed floor-to-ceiling with books, is inhabited by a mercurial grey cat named Merlin, and features a squashy armchair that no one is ever able to sit it because it, too, is almost always claimed by books (or Merlin).  It’s odd that Harry and Cisco have never run into each other before since they both frequent the place with regularity.

“Oh, sorry,” Cisco says, transfixed by piercing blue eyes and whoa hello, handsome.

“It’s fine,” says Harry, focus stuttering on which of Cisco’s soft edges he likes best.

“Um, it’s the only copy, I think,” says Cisco, tapping the spine.  There is no back stockroom to this shop - it  _is_  the stockroom.  

“That’s a dilemma.” Harry replies. Usually he wouldn’t have any trouble seizing the book and leaving with a curt word, but instead he’s thinking about how the fingertips that brushed the back of his hand were callused, and that he can still feel the vibrations they left on his skin.

“Yeah. Um. Sooo–” Cisco shifts, gaze skittering.  There’s really no safe direction for him to look. This guy might be older than Cisco’s usual range of interest, but he’s six feet of lean muscle and angular features and it’s a goddamn hazard.  “Wanna…. take a quick glance at it together?  See if it’s what either of us were looking for?”  He smiles in what he hopes is a winning, friendly manner.

“Works for me,” Harry answers gruffly, just barely managing to surface from deep contemplation of Cisco’s dimples.

They both reach for the book again, and bump hands a second time.

“Oh my god, sorry,” Cisco laughs. “The ol’ hand-eye coordination skills are just,” he wiggles his hand in a vague gesture, “not cooperating!”

Cisco’s not even sure what he means by that.  That he should have waited for the other man to grab the book?  That his stomach flips every time they make eye contact and it’s debilitating?  That he should be sinking through the floor with embarrassment?  Probably the last one.

“It’s fine,” Harry says again.  He reaches up and slowly takes the book from the shelf, but his eyes are on Cisco, very carefully cataloging how he looks when he glances down and blushes and tucks his hair behind his ears.  He opens  _Beam Me Up, Scotty! Speculations about Future Feasibility of Science in Sci-Fi_ to the table of contents page and holds it out so Cisco can see it too.

“Ooh, they have a whole chapter on travelling through space-time,” Cisco says, enthusiasm quickly pushing aside his brief flirtation with death by social awkwardness. “I’ve always thought the Einstein-Rosen Bridge theory has some merit, but I still gotta wonder if the “you” that pops out the other side could still be the “you” that went in - I mean, getting squeezed through  _anti-de Sitter space_  has gotta be one hell of a trip, right?”

Harry’s not reading the table of contents any more.  He’s watching Cisco’s face glow and his hands animatedly move as he describes properties of Lorenztian manifolds with the ease of someone chatting about the weather.  

 “…Indeed.” He says, when there’s a pause.

“ _Indeed_?  …Did you just Spock me?  You totally just Spocked me.” Cisco accuses, glancing up from the page.  He’s taken aback to see the other man is already looking at him and that his ears have gone pink.

“Maybe,” Harry evades, but he can’t help a quirk of his lips.  

Cisco laughs delightedly, then after a moment puts out his hand.  “I’m Cisco.” 

“Harry.”  They shake.

“Do you… do you wanna sit? And look at the rest for a little longer?”  Cisco asks, looking around, but the bookshop has only ever had the one armchair.  And like always - it’s occupied.  Merlin the cat opens a slit-pupiled yellow eye from where he’s curled up on the plush cushion, as if he senses someone thinking of encroaching on his territory.  And you know what, Cisco would like to keep his arms un-mauled.  Yep.  He has a faint white scar the size of a pencil mark from the first (and only) time he tried to pet Merlin a few years ago, and it's not the day to add a sequel.

Harry follows Cisco’s gaze to the chair.  He hands over the book, and then to Cisco’s shock he ambles right up, scratches Merlin behind the ear, then casually  _scoops him up_  like a fluffy bag of soup and deposits him on the floor.  All completely un-mauled.  Merlin even butts against his shins with a purring  _myaang_.  It’s more surreal than a Dali painting and that’s saying something because Cisco still has nightmares about spindly elephants.

“Are you a cat whisperer?” Cisco stage-whispers.  

“We share a similar temperament,” Harry replies, sitting on one squashy arm of the chair.  He looks at Cisco expectantly.

Cisco chews his lip before going over to sit on the seat cushion.  Harry makes a small noise of surprise, and it’s only after Cisco has fully settled his weight in the forbidden (and absurdly comfortable) armchair that he realizes the other man probably intended him to sit on the opposite arm.  Yannow, so that Cisco’s face wouldn’t be level with his navel.  Like it is now.  But it’s too late to move.  If he gets up, he will blush even harder and it’s much too soon for the heat death of the universe.

“Um.” Cisco flops open the book. “Where were we?”

“Travelling through space-time,” Harry says, making Cisco jump.  The man’s voice is much closer than expected - he’s had to lean down to see the book and it puts his lips near Cisco’s ear.  Cisco fights back a shiver as warm breath caresses his neck.

Harry, for his part, is also struggling.  In leaning over he can smell whatever product Cisco puts in his shiny, stupidly attractive hair.  It’s sweet and subtle and combined with the underlying heady note of Cisco’s personal scent, it’s turning off switches in Harry’s higher reasoning and, uh, turning them on in other places.  It would be so easy to just… nuzzle his nose behind Cisco’s ear to get a better whiff.  But no, bad.  Bad Harry.  Personal boundaries are important.  He met Cisco barely ten minutes ago.  They are not yet at the “nuzzling” stage.

“Okay, so, that section looks pretty awesome. And dope, there’s a chapter on weaponry!”  Cisco flips to the first page in question.

Harry squints and leans closer to read it, wishing he had his glasses.  Cisco’s hair tickles his cheek.

“Interesting theory on concussive pulse weapons,” he says, already drawn in.  He licks his finger and absently turns the page.  Then another.  And another.   “I’m surprised they don’t mention that this application of plasma manipulation is already being researched for prototype radiation shields.”

“You mean,  _force fields_??” Cisco replies, turning to grin at Harry, as Harry turns to look at him, each forgetting how close their faces already are.

(They’re very close.)

They share the same breath of air almost nose-to-nose.  Cisco’s smile has vanished into stupor. Harry knows he should pull away but the sight of Cisco’s softly parted mouth is like an anchor dropped into the center of his very being, keeping him there.

“A- _hem_.” 

They both jump, bash foreheads, and cringe away from each other hissing in pain.  When they can stand to open their eyes they see the interloper: the elderly woman staffing the front desk (if it can deservedly be called the front desk. It’s the  _only_  desk.)  She looks over her enormous horn-rimmed reading glasses at them and points at a sign posted on the wall that declares,  _‘We are NOT a library. If you READ more than a chapter you BETTER be buying it. Help keep us in business!’_.

“Sorry!” Cisco says to her, still rubbing his forehead.  It’s the one thing he dislikes about this store - they’re not fond of idle readers.  He should have known better than to suggest they read the book here.  “Sorry,” he says again, this time to Harry.

“Stop apologizing,” Harry grunts and stands up.  He plucks  _Beam Me Up, Scotty! Speculations about Future Feasibility of Science in Sci-Fi_  from Cisco’s lap and slaps some cash on the counter, favoring the woman with a sour look. 

“Hey,” Cisco protests.  Did Harry really just swoop him on this awesome book?!

“You owe me seven-fifty,” Harry says. “We’re splitting it.”

“Guh,” replies Cisco, intelligently.  What is happening?

Harry makes a sharp ‘round ‘em up’ motion with his finger towards the door, already walking towards it.

“Come on. Let’s grab a coffee somewhere we can actually read this thing.”

Cisco is on his feet and following before he’s really thought about it.  When he does, he spends a laughable moment trying to justify it as concern over the book.  Thankfully he comes to his senses and admits to himself that it is really,  _really_  not the paper and ink he’s chasing after.

Harry, on the other hand, is busy having a small panic party that he’s overstepped and Cisco will think he’s rude and tell him to piss off (not normally something he cares about, because people are stupid and generally not worth his emotional energy.  When did he get so invested?  Oh, right, somewhere between Cisco being gorgeous and smart and vivacious and funny. Yep, Harry is screwed). 

When Cisco falls in step beside him with a grin and a “Where to?” Harry can’t help but smile back.


End file.
